Toora Loora Loora
by faeriesnook
Summary: In the dead of night, Ireland returns to the home she once lived, after avoiding it for so long. And during this visit, she has an unexpected encounter with the newest member of the family.


**Title:**Toora Loora Loora

**Author:** Faeriesnook

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia in anyway shape or form. But I do love its creator for making history so much more interesting! I also do not own the lullaby, Toora Loora Loora, I just love it dearly. Oh, and I do not own the OC!Scotland and OC!Wales featured here.

**Characters:** Ireland, Scotland, Wales, England, Northern Ireland, Sealand.

**Rating:** PG

**Warnings:** OC Nations. Sap.

**Summary:** In the dead of night, Ireland returns to the home she once lived, after avoiding it for so long. And during this visit, she has an unexpected encounter with the newest member of the family.

-

It was late at night, very late. Not a soul would be up. They would all be sound asleep. She knew that as she stepped out of the taxi, thanking the driver. She knew that as she walked up the pathway to the front door of the lavish estate. She almost snorted, staring up at the home she used to reside in. Honestly, what had led her to return? She had never wanted to step foot in this household again. Not after working so hard to gain her own freedom. And yet here she was, on the stoop, kneeling down and fetching the spare key from beneath the potted plant. Honestly, she had to laugh at that. After all these years, couldn't they think of a better hiding spot?

She opened the door as quietly as she could, taking a deep breath before stepping inside. What had led her here again? What had caused her to wake up, to find the next flight to London? To come all the way to the home of someone she outwardly detested? But she knew that answer as clear as day. Even if Ireland hated England… Saoirse Kirkland would always worry (in her own way) about her baby brother.

Plus, she reminded herself, she wasn't here just to check on him. She was worried about the others too. She hadn't spoken to Blaine, Scotland, for a good month. And poor Eira, Wales, was always shying away, and Patrick…

Well, Saoirse also just desperately wanted to see her 'son', as she liked to refer to little Northern Ireland. Of course, going when they all were awake was a logical thing - but that would mean admitting that she had indeed been worried about them, _all_ of them. That was something she just could not do. Something she could never do, because there were still resentments between the nations of Ireland and England. As the embodiment of the Irish nation, Saoirse could not openly admit her worry for Arthur. Plus… Well, she had never been known to show her concern for him period.

So that was what led her to this old home. That was what led her to find the spare key beneath the flower pot. What led her to wandering through the home, a fond smile on her face.

It had really been a long while, she remembered. But things still looked the same to her. Almost. There were some additions, she noted, but many things she recognized instantly, with almost a fond smile. The first familiar thing she had spotted was an old picture. Within it, the four siblings stood side by side in casual attire. She remembered the day the picture had been taken. It had been Eira's request, as they all knew a split was inevitable. Arthur and Saoirse had reluctantly agreed, though they refused to stand by one another. She remembered still, the moment after the picture had been taken Blaine had pulled Arthur into a head lock, declaring that it was his turn to pay for a round. Arthur had hotly insisted that he always paid. In the end, Saoirse had ended up paying. And she still could not figure out how that had occurred.

She set the frame down, trailing a hand over the table of pictures, spotting some other new things. There was a picture of Arthur (looking quite peeved) with Alfred (looking quite cheerful) and Francis (looking quite drunk). There was another picture of Eira, obviously taken without her knowledge, looking up at the stars. Another one of Gilbert and Blaine, with the caption 'Happy Hour' at the bottom in what she recognized as the Scot's handwriting, and she could remember that story. It had ended in a draw, both the ex-Nation and Scotland drunk off their arses. She laughed merrily at that, before pausing at a picture of Patrick. The little red-headed representation of Northern Ireland was smiling, his two front teeth missing. Saoirse smiled sadly, picking the picture up, before shaking her head and setting it down.

She continued along her way, pausing every once in a while. She had been shocked to find her leprechaun statue was still there. The Irish woman had been sure it would have been thrown out after she had left. After all, besides the one picture of the four together, there was nothing to even signify she was a member of the family… but she could not dwell on that at the moment. She had a task to do! With that reaffirming statement, she made her way up the stairs.

The first room she reached, naturally, was Blaine's. She had to snort when she found him, lying on the ground in an alcohol-induced sleep. Shaking her head she crept closer, picking up a few of the bottles and setting them on a nearby table. After almost tripping on his bag pipes, she picked up a post-it note, scribbling a message across it.

_Get some coffee. Have a large cup for your hang over. _

She didn't bother signing it. Blaine would figure it out - at least she hoped he would. Out of all the siblings, she was closest to him in sense. Most likely because they were the eldest, they had been the ones to take care of their two younger siblings for a long time. That was before Arthur became that damn Empire and decided to take over his siblings' land. Really, she needed to kick him again for that next time they were at a World Meeting.

The next room she entered was Eira's. She smiled fondly at the sight. Her younger sister had always reminded her of that quiet Canadian nation (or rather, he reminded Saoirse of Eira). Eira was always trying to be reasonable, at least on the surface, but each sibling knew that she had a temper and she wouldn't stop fighting. She was still fighting, Saoirse knew, to gain some sort of freedom. To regain recognition amongst the world.

Still though, Saoirse wished her sister would grow a backbone and take a stand once in a while. The only time she ever really saw Eira get heated up (and get into huge debates with Arthur) was over which was better, _Torchwood_ or _Doctor Who_. Honestly, the red-headed nation still did not see the appeal of the two…but to each their own, she supposed.

Eira was currently curled up beneath her blankets, a stuffed doll of Jack Harkness in her arms. Saoirse smiled fondly at that, brushing hair out of her little sister's face. Quietly, she scribbled another note on a post-it, placing it on the other's bedside table.

_Don't let them push you around._

The next room was little Patrick's. Saoirse hesitated outside the door, before quietly entering. Immediately, she stubbed her toe on a toy. Biting down many, many, _many_ loud curses, she treaded in. The room was an absolute mess, and it made her smirk. That _had_ to piss Arthur off, the little neat-freak.

Patrick himself was sprawled out on his bed, on top of the blanket. Saoirse clucked her tongue at the sight. With utmost care she lifted him up, turning the blanket down and setting him back onto the mattress. He shifted at first, latching onto a nearby stuffed animal before settling. She smiled at that, leaning down and planting a simple kiss on his cheek, before scribbling down another note.

_I love you._

Arthur's room was vacant, much to her surprise. Scratching her head, Saoirse peeked around the house, before finally finding her baby brother in the study. He was at his desk, head pillowed against his arms, sound asleep amongst mountains of paper work.

With a laugh, she strolled into the room, planting her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, what am I to do with you?" She received no answer, not that she expected or _wanted_ one. Striding forward, she picked up a quilt off the back of one of the study's chairs, laying it over him. It was then that she paused, something catching her eye in the dim light. A simple claddagh ring was on the ring finger of his right hand (the one she had given him, she realized). An amused smile played across the Irish lass's face when she noted it was turned inward. "Aw, lil' Snapper's got a love? Wonder who it is… I'll have to ask Blaine later."

With a laugh, she reached out and ruffled her brother's hair. Arthur mumbled something, attempting to swat her hand away before settling down. "I'm happy for you, Arthur."

She scribbled one last note, setting it on his forehead with a smirk.

_Oi, sleep in your bed, dumbass._

With her mission done, Saoirse turned to leave. Sure, they would be suspicious of the notes, but only Blaine would realize right away. If he knew what was good for him, he would come up with some story to explain them.

It wasn't until a small sound caught her attention that she stopped. Green eyes went wide as she spun around, expecting to see one of her bewildered siblings, or 'son', standing there, wondering what she was doing in the house. But instead, she was met with the sight of a small child, only three or four years old, dressed in blue whale-printed pajamas. The little child looked up at her with sleepy blue eyes, his blonde hair mussed and his large (just like all the Kirkland's) eyebrows scrunched together.

"Who're you?"

"I could ask the same question!"

"I live here."

"I used to live here."

"Then why are you here now?"

"None of your business, pipsqueak!" She snapped, before realizing something. "Oi! You never told me your name!"

The little boy gave a yawn before smiling happily. "I'm Sealand, of course! I'm going to be the coolest, strongest nation ever!"

For a moment Saoirse stared...and then she burst out laughing.

Sealand, wasn't that the name of that dock (or whatever it was) Arthur had built? Yet it had a human embodiment like other nations? People actually lived there!? The little boy scowled, stomping his foot. "Hey! Don't laugh at the Sea!"

"Aha, sorry, haha, just… It's a bit, heh, funny s'all," she responded, grinning a little. It couldn't have been inhabited for very long, and if so, it couldn't have many residents for the boy to look so young. "So, what's your name?"

"I told you! Sea-"

"No, I meant your human name." She laughed in amusement, squatting down so she was eye-level with the confused boy. "Like how England's is Arthur Kirkland."

"… Peter…"

"Okay, Pete, it was nice meeting you," she stood, smoothing out her skirt. "But I better get before anyone else wakes up."

Turning on her heels, she began to make her way out, when a small tug caught at the hem of her shirt. "What's your name, miss?"

She blinked, glancing down at him. Sealand, Peter, was still looking up at her with exhausted eyes. One hand was holding a baby blue blankie, while the other was tugging at her shirt. Scowling, she turned, crossing her arms over her chest. "And who says I gotta tell you?"

"It's proper manners."

"Tch, Arthur told you that, didn't he?" The little boy nodded. It made Saoirse scowl more. "Saoirse."

Peter stared up at her again, eyes widening. "You're Pat's Mommy!"

That took her by surprise. "Wh-What!?"

"Pat's Mommy! That's you right!? 'Cause big brother Arthur told me her name was Saoirse, and he showed me an' Pat a picture once of her, cause he was crying. And she looked like you! Are you Pat's Mommy!?"

"Wa-wait. Hold on a second," she blinked, kneeling down and resting her hands on his shoulders. "A photograph? Y'mean the one on of all four of us?"

He shook his head. "No! It was a really pretty picture. You were dancing or something! Big brother Blaine said Arthur took it when you weren't paying attention. It's really pretty! It's in one of the photo albums in big brother's study. There're lotsa pictures of you, and everyone else! Big sister Eira says it's like their family album!"

So… Saoirse hadn't been erased from the family? Even after everything that happened?

"Big brother Arthur said you and 'im got into a fight. Is that true!? And you kinda won and moved out? That's really cool! But Pat wanted to stay, right, right? So he stayed behind! But everybody misses you. 'Cause, 'cause, they keep on saying how even if they're nations, you're all still siblings. And I heard big brother Blaine talkin' to big brother Arthur once about how," the little boy paused, taking a large breath before continuing. Saoirse snorted at his impression of Scotland. "'Even if Ireland and England have issues, Saoirse and Arthur are still family, you brat'… But I think he was that was he gets when he drinks a lot from those bottles I'm not allowed to go near… But he and big brother Arthur really like 'em…"

After seeing that he had finally finished, Saoirse couldn't help but laugh. It caused a scowl. "Hey! Why're you laughing at me now!?"

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" She chuckled, standing with her hands on her hips. Peter looked down immediately, shuffling his feet and mumbling. She tilted her head in mock confusion, leaning forward. "Sorry, what was that? Gotta speak up little Sea."

"I'm not little!" He shouted, before clamping his hands (and blankie) over his mouth. Saoirse strained her ears, waiting to hear the footsteps that would make her run. But they never came, and after a minute or so, it was deemed safe to speak. "… I said, I had a nightmare…"

"So why are you down here?"

"'Cause this is where big brother Arthur always is…" Peter shifted shyly, ringing his blankie in both hands. "A lot of nights he always stays here late and then he falls asleep… Big sister Eira told me you used to always pull a blanket over him-"

"How did she know that!?"

"So when I wake up 'cause of a nightmare, and he's still down here I come down and I put the blanket over 'im. And then I fall asleep in one of the chairs, 'cause I feel safe."

"Why not wake him up?" But she already knew the answer.

"'Cause he works really hard like, all the time." The eyes were so wide, so innocent. She smiled a bit more.

"Well, then, you should be on your way then, right?"

"Where are you going?"

"To my own home," she responded, but the little boy had suddenly grabbed her hand. She blinked, surprised by the sudden tight grip, gazing down at the bright blue eyes.

"Can you stay!?"

"I can't," she stated simply, trying to free her hand - but the little Sea wasn't having it. With a surprisingly strong tug, he was pulling her in the direction of the kitchen. "Oi! What're you doin'!?"

"I'm hungry," Peter announced simply, finally letting her go and flipping on the kitchen light. "Will you eat before you leave? Ireland's really far away, right? Eat before you go!"

Saoirse wanted to argue, but had a feeling that she would not get very far. For a moment, she was reminded of a little stubborn Arthur, demanding a bedtime story for both he and Eira. With a small laugh, which seemed to confuse the boy, she nodded. Placing her hands on her knees, she leaned forward, an amused smile on her face. "Alright then, Snapper. What would you like?"

"Toast!" was his automatic response, and she just stared at him for a moment before straightening.

"Well then, toast it is!" She walked over to the bread basket, getting out two slices and popping them in the toaster. "Anything else?"

He shook his head, climbing up into a chair and swinging his feet. She watched with a fond smile, remembering all the times she had to make breakfast for her siblings (after all, she was the only one out of them that _could_ cook). With an afterthought, she went to the bottom cabinet, pulling out the coffee maker Blaine liked to hide there (because Arthur always threw a temper tantrum over the machine). Setting it up, she pulled out a post it note, setting it on the machine.

_Blaine, drink a cup. It's all set up, you just gotta press the button._

When the toast was finished, she buttered it before setting it down in front of the little Sea. He munched on it happily, Saoirse idly braiding a strand of her hair. She looked around the kitchen, remembering the crazed mornings. Days where Arthur would be late for a meeting, hopping into the room while tying his shoes. Days when Blaine would be so hung over, she and Eira drew straws to see who would bring him his lunch. Days where Eira would speak with excitement about going to see the latest production of a favorite play. Days where Patrick was still half asleep, and half his food ended up on the table instead of in his mouth. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

She had no idea how much she had missed the house.

"Big sis Saoirse?" She blinked, surprised by how she was addressed, turning her head to look at Peter. He was looking up at her with wide eyes, hugging his blankie close. "… Will you come visit more often now?"

The question caught her off guard. Tucking hair behind her ear, the red head leaned across the table, using a forgotten napkin to wipe crumbs off his face. "I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Ireland and England, they don't get along."

"But what about Saoirse and Arthur?"

"That's a very good question, little Sea. I'm not sure."

Peter looked ready to say something, but a creak caught both attention. Saoirse spun around, eyes wide, excuses to why she was here filling her head. A mop of red-hair stumbled into the kitchen, a tired thirteen year old standing in the door way, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Pete? What're you doin'…"

Little Patrick trailed off, green eyes catching sight of Saoirse. She stood frozen, not sure how he would react. She knew things were tense between North Ireland and Ireland. Would that reflect in their relationship?

What she didn't expect would be the little Nation to rocket forward, flinging his arms around her waist with a choked 'Mamai!'. She stood frozen for a minute, before reacting. Her arms wrapped around him, Saoirse hugging him tightly. Kissing the top of his head, she squeezed him, before holding him at arm's length. "You need a haircut."

"Blaine says it looks cool!" Patrick argued with a small huff. Saoirse merely laughed, shaking her head. Patrick still looked dumbstruck. "Mamai, why are you…"

"She missed everyone!" Peter piped in, suddenly by her side, shyly holding onto her sleeve. "And she made me toast!"

"Hush, you two are going to wake everyone up." She shook her head at the two, managing to release the hem of her shirt from Peter's tiny hands. "I was just on my way out."

"No!" Patrick had latched onto her arm in a minute, eyes wide. "Mamai, st-stay! Please!"

"Patrick," she started sternly. "You know just as well as I do I can't stick around. Irela-"

"I want a lullaby!" Peter cut in, stamping his foot, staring up at her with determined eyes. Saoirse stared at him, confused. "Sometimes, when he's awake and I have nightmares, big brother Arthur sings me one! And I had a nightmare, and he's asleep. Big sis, sing me one!"

"Yeah! Sing me one too, Mamai!"

"Oi, you tw-"

"C'mon!" They had both had grabbed one of her hands, yanking her from the room. Saoirse tried to get away, half-heartedly, a scowl on her face.

"Fine. One song. Then I'm going."

"Will you visit again, Mamai?" Patrick mumbled softly, Saoirse releasing an annoyed huff of air.

"Pat-"

"O-Or can I come visit!? Blaine or Eira can bring me!" She looked at him before she sat down on the sofa, pulling her 'son' down with her. He squawked in surprise, Saoirse barely paying attention. Little Sea climbed into her lap.

"How about tomorrow I call and you and I can arrange plans?" Patrick's eyes lit up. She smiled, wrapping one arm around Peter to make sure he wouldn't fall. "Alright. One lullaby, then I'm putting you both to bed. Understood?"

Both conspirators nodded. Saoirse thought to herself for a moment, idly stroking the already drifting Peter's blonde hair. Patrick had settled down by her side, hugging her other arm tightly. She kissed the top of his head again before crooning softly.

_"Over in Killarney, many years ago  
My mother sang this song to me in tones so sweet and low  
Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way  
And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day."_

Glancing down, she saw Peter already sound asleep snuggled against her chest, his blankie in his arms. She looked at Patrick, his head resting against her shoulder and his eyes drooping sleepily. Saoirse smiled, resting her head against his, continuing on.

_"Toora, loora, loora  
Toora, loora, li  
Toora, loora, loora  
Hush, now, don't you cry."_

A small surprised gasp caught her attention. She glanced towards the doorway of the living room, Eira standing there. No doubt she'd thought Peter and Patrick had gotten up, and had come down worriedly to tell them to go to bed. Saoirse smiled, nodding her head for her sister to come forward. Shyly, Eira did so, sitting at her other side. Saoirse did not pause her song, feeling Eira's head rest against her shoulder after a few moments.

_"Toora, loora, loora  
Toora, loora, li  
Toora, loora, loora  
Hush now don't you cry."_

"Oi, who's makin'," Blaine cut off mid-sentence, eyes widening. "Shamrock…"

Saoirse just rolled her eyes, still not pausing. Scotland said nothing more as well, striding forward and sitting in front of the sofa, right beside Saoirse's legs. She glanced over the slumbering Peter's head; Blaine just gave her a small smile, drawing one knee into his chest while he listened. Saoirse returned that small smile, continuing.

_"Oft in dreams I wander  
To that cot again, I feel her arms a-hug-"_

A stuttered shout made her look up one final time. Arthur was standing at the door way, the quilt wrapped around his shoulders, green eyes wide as saucers. He was the one that made her pause, eyes widening as well. She wasn't sure what to do, feeling both the slumbering little Sea and Patrick shift, Eira's head lifting off her shoulder. Saoirse tightened her one arm around Peter, her other hand gripping the fabric of the sofa. She waited with silence, knowing very well his next words would be telling her to get out of his house.

"Don't stop," came Blaine's firm tone, Saoirse glancing down at her brother. He looked at Arthur before craning his head back to look at her.

"Keep singing," Eira whispered softly, returning her head to Saoirse's shoulder. "Blaine and I have missed your lullabies…"

"'Course, you tell anyone that I'll kill you." The Scot responded, flashing a grin before leaning his head on the sofa cushions. Saoirse just gave them both a pointed stare, but she began again, watching Arthur with anxious eyes, waiting for him to interrupt.

_"Oft in dreams I wander  
To that cot again, I feel her arms a-huggin' me as when she held me then."_

Instead of interrupting again or shouting at her to get out, Arthur padded over. Saoirse watched him - watched as her baby brother (because even if Peter was a member of the family, Arthur would always be the baby brother in her eyes) sat down on the other side of her legs. She didn't pause, glancing at him wearily.

_"And I hear her voice a -hummin' to me as in days of yore,  
When she used to rock me fast asleep outside the cabin door."_

As she sung, his head came to rest against her knee. Saoirse saw green eyes slip shut.

"He missed them too," Eira whispered with a small giggle. Saoirse almost grinned, glancing at her sister.

_"Toora, loora, loora  
Toora, loora, li  
Toora, loora, loora  
Hush, now, don't you cry _

_Toora, loora, loora  
Toora, loora, li  
Toora, loora, loora"_

Saoirse glanced at the siblings around her, an amused smile forming. Each one had drifted off. Saoirse finish the last line softly, letting her own eyes shut.

_"That's an Irish lullaby. "_

-

**1) Mamai is an Irish Gaelic name for mother that children would use. Pronounced Mah-mee.**

**2) Saoirse is pronounced Seer-sha**

**I apologize for the sap that is that ending. And do hope you enjoyed this!**


End file.
